A tribute packaged for the small screen

September 14 2002

It was a tragedy brought to us by the box - and one year on we were back before the television set again.

WHAT an indigestible week. How many people took Laura Bush's surprisingly intelligent advice and turned the TV off? Not me. I'm still choking on hours of memorial-commemorative-anniversary-previously-unseen-special-tribute TV.

Last year on September 11 (or was it 12? It certainly wasn't 9/11. That was just another Friday in November for Australians) we watched tragedy TV for an average of six hours. Only six?

That's all most of us did. We watched TV. A year later we probably did the same again. How many times have we seen those towers glisten then tumble, glisten then tumble? Alive, dead. Alive, dead. How do we commemorate the single longest viewing experience of our lives?

This is not Gallipoli, so we aren't ever going to march. We can't crowd around ground zero. We can't sing their national anthem. We can barely sing our national anthem.

We commemorated a tragedy that we experienced primarily on TV, by watching TV, again.");document.write("

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We watched shiny anchor people babble from their ground zero stake-out positions. We heard journalists of every calibre noose themselves in tacky ropes of terrible cliches. We saw opportunistic politicians, brave or broken survivors, and the pin-up girls and boys of 9/11 who look great as they articulate personal grief.

We relived the horror in crisply edited editions that gave the action new pungency. 9/11 (Wednesday, Seven) a film made by two French brothers, documenting the life of a rookie firefighter, took us inside Tower 1 as the buildings collapsed. After Robert De Niro's unpalatable introduction the piece improved when the profound talk stopped and the pictures started. Very few of us ever actually see firemen at work. We see bravery in movies. The real thing is totally disarming.

In Memoriam - New York City 9/11 (Nine, Tuesday) edited and credited footage from hundreds of home video cameras. No narration. No De Niros. Just the biggest multi-cam shoot in the history of civilisation. We got this sucker covered from every angle.

Flight 93 - Countdown to Terror (Nine, Wednesday) pieced together the demise of Flight 93 near Shanksville through phone conversations between those on board and family on the ground. Good story, mawkish dramatic reconstruction. (Too soon for actors to say the words "let's roll"? I think so.)

And was that the voice of The Simpsons' Troy McClure narrating How The Twin Towers Collapsed II (Seven, Wednesday)? Sombre, sinister, and too stoopid to ask the more pertinent question, why. Hanging out for HTTTC III.

After all that dazzling editing, the live memorials made very slow television. Flags. Flags. Flags. It takes over an hour to read 2801 names. If they're going to keep singing the same song about the free and the brave, couldn't they just step it up a little?

The only thing that moved quickly was the President. He popped up everywhere but Woy Woy RSL and managed to linger with mourners at each ceremony. He said: "Today we remember each life." When Americans mourn, it's personal. Much was made of the victims' individuality and innocence. This 9/11 innocence seems to implicate guilt among the thousands who die in wars, in poverty, in natural disasters every day.

In local coverage, Nine wrapped up CBS footage in homilies from Ray and Mike and Steve on The World Remembers. Over at the ABC, Jennifer, Juanita and Tony displayed considerably more restraint. On his perch at ground zero, Tony Jones talked to Christopher Hitchens who, refreshingly, declared this an all-time low point for American oratory. Interviewing Richard Butler, Jennifer Byrne pushed for a definitive connection between September 11 and Iraq. He knew of none. Crosses to correspondents throughout the Middle East, and vox pops taken from Israel and the Palestinian territories provided some balance.

Elsewhere, Sampras and Agassi thrashed out a sensational US Open final. Baby John Burgess recorded his 1000th Catch Phrase. David Hasselhoff came out for the first time to talk about rehab. And 88 not-quite-so-innocent bodies were pulled from a train wreck in India. Hundreds more were injured. If the survivors all held video cameras, would we edit the movie, read aloud their unfamiliar names and hold a parade?

When it comes to September 11, we like to watch. Perhaps every year we should glue our arses to the couch and watch television.

As with Anzac Day, there should always be a solemn element - say 60 seconds of silence, not on television, of course. Then perhaps we could watch Bonanza, or even some of Miss Carol Burnett's best work. To feel empathy we could watch Oprah interview Diane Sawyer. For revenge, a festival of Dynasty or Dallas.

After spending more than 12 hours revisiting the towers, the Pentagon and Shanksville, I remain unconvinced of the value of the excursion. I've removed the sack of pointy rocks from my chest, put down the remote and walked away from the TV. Enough, at least until next year.